Fortified -Pau Cubarsí-

6 - the supply closet

I laugh at Marc Bernal's idea of  'the best prank of all time'. the rest of the team seems to find it funny too, because before we know it, we are all running around the house trying to find the best hiding spot.

the prank consists of all of us hiding in a random spot in the house so when hector and celeste get back from their 'couples walk' they think we've all left. my giggling doesn't stifle as me and Pau run around the Massive house, Trying to find the perfect hiding spot, then i find it.

"Look! the supply closet!" i whisper, tugging paus arm in the direction of the small door. when i stop in front of it, Pau looks at me with a unsure expression, "you think we'll fit?" he asks, eyeing the inside of the stuffy closet. "yeah, it'll be a tight fit, but i can squeeze myself into the corner" i say confidently, walking into the small excuse of a room. 

once pau shuts the door behind him i realize how small it actually is in here. but i don't have time to do anything because i hear footsteps down the hall. 

i press myself harder into the back wall of the room, hyperaware of Paus arm next to my head, his palm flat against the wall behind me. His chest is so close to mine i can feel the heat radiating off him, and everytime he changes his weight from foot to foot has me on edge.

 The footsteps fade, leaving us in thick silence, and I exhale slowly, catching the faintest scent of his cologne, something warm and earthy. My heart is pounding in my ears, louder than anything outside. I can barely see him in the dark, but I can feel him. His arm, braced against the wall, placed so close to my face that the heat of his skin sends shivers up my spine.

"Think they'll find us?" he whispers, his voice so low it's almost a vibration in the small, enclosed space. The sound of it washes over me, and I suddenly realize just how close he is. Closer than he's ever been, his breath ghosting across my cheek in the darkness.

I shake my head, barely trusting myself to speak. "Not if we stay quiet," I manage, my voice coming out much softer than I intended. He chuckles under his breath, a low, warm sound that sends my pulse racing.

There's was a soft rustle as he shifts, his shoulder grazing mine, and I feel him flinch slightly. My heart tightens as I remember the cut on his jaw from yesterday, the nasty gash that had required a few stitches. Even in the dark, I can see the faint line, i can imagine the slight bruising just below it.

I bite my lip, hoping I hadn't brushed against it when we squeezed into the closet. "Does it still hurt?" I whisper, letting my gaze drop to his jawline.

His hand reaches up to graze the side of his face, fingertips skimming just above the line of stitches, his jaw clenches as he winces slightly. "It's... fine," he replies, a little too quickly. But even in the dark, I can see how his eyes soften as he watches me. "Just a bit sore."

My chest tighten as I look at him, the way he's standing so close, all sharp angles and rough edges, but soft around the eyes as he holds my gaze. I reach out, tentative, barely brushing my fingertips over his cheek, just above the stitches. "You're a terrible liar," I whisper, my voice barely a breath between us.

For a moment, he just watches me, his eyes flickering with something I can't quite read, something that makes the air between us feel even warmer, heavier. He leans in, just enough that I can feel his breath on my face, and my heart hammers against my ribs. His hand moves down, grazing mine as it drops, but instead of pulling away, his fingers stay there, tangled lightly with mine.